LuckoftheDraw

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by Jayne Kingston


  For all she knew she was destined to be like Momma and Busha, who were both strong, happy women who’d loved once and never had the want or desire to try again after losing their loves. When Petra imagined the three of them living out the rest of their lives together, three generations of strong Russian women under the same roof, taking care of each other into their old age, she didn’t hate the idea.

  The atmosphere in the party became more sexually charged as each woman drew a number from Rachel’s bowl. Petra stood on the periphery, watching as some players began to steal furtive glances at the people they hoped to get matched up with during the drawing. Those who didn’t care popped breath mints and helped themselves to the condoms that were always available at her parties.

  A lot of the women, she noticed, were stealing glances at Alex, as usual. He could have been a huge manwhore if he’d wanted based solely on the reputation he’d gotten for being “the most fun in bed ever” through the handful of key parties he’d attended. While it was a hard, fast rule that players were not supposed to show favor toward one player over another, she knew Alex’s keys were coveted within the small circle of women she trusted enough to invite to her exclusive playdates.

  She’d seen firsthand what a night with Alex did to someone. He didn’t date men, but he was an up-for-anything kind of guy when it came to sex. Years ago, he’d come to one of the bisexual parties she’d thrown and had been matched up with Jude.

  Jude’s behavior afterward had caused an atypical bout of jealousy Petra had long put out of her mind. For one, neither of them had ever spent the entire night with whomever’s keys they’d drawn. She’d always woken up with Jude next to her, even if she’d fallen asleep alone.

  The morning after that party she’d woken up by herself. And when she’d pressed her ear to the door of the room they’d spent the night in she’d heard the sounds of them still going at it, murmuring like lovers as they made the bed frame creak in a slow, steady rhythm.

  Jude hadn’t wanted to sleep with her for a long time after, and he wouldn’t talk to her about what had happened that night. Every time she’d caught him lost in his thoughts, a dreamy little smile on his face, she’d wanted to scream at him to tell her what happened. And the more tight-lipped he’d been, the stronger her curiosity had become.

  Now that old, forgotten curiosity about Alex was back, and it wanted answers.

  When she braved another look his way, he was still watching her.

  He jerked his head toward the door as if to say, “Let’s go.”

  But Bree was already standing on the coffee table with the fishbowl of keys. Rachel was sitting at her feet with the bigger bowl of condoms in her lap, ready to dispense them to anyone who needed them.

  Bree turned to address the entire room as she started to explain how the drawing was going to go down and nearly clocked Rachel in the head with the heavy glass fishbowl. Rachel ducked out of the way in time, but Petra saw shock register briefly on Rachel’s face as she got a good look at the bottom of the clear glass bowl.

  She laid a hand on Bree’s arm to get her attention. From Petra’s vantage point across the room she could see what Rachel was showing Bree. Stuck to the inside of the glass was what appeared to be a small sticker. Specifically, the small sticker Bree had likely attached to Michel’s keys to identify them from everyone else’s.

  She knew that trick because they’d stolen it from her. It was how she’d made sure Rachel had ended up with Ben’s keys when she’d rigged that game in their favor. Rachel still had the puffy yellow star sticker on the corner of the mirror over her dresser as a souvenir. Petra would have used the same trick to match Bree with Cooper if things hadn’t gone a different way the night of their party.

  Before either Bree or Rachel could recover, Christie Morton, a nurse who worked with Bree in the ER on the night shift, came forward shouting, “I have number one!”

  An uneasy chuckle rippled through the crowd as she slapped the little slip of paper with her number into Rachel’s palm, stuck her hand into the key bowl before Bree could stop her and made a big show out of stirring the keys for good measure.

  The crowd went quiet just in time to hear Christie whisper, “Come on, Alex.”

  Which sucked for Marshall, whose keys she had drawn.

  Had it been her party, Petra would have disqualified her immediately.

  Bree’s eyes, so wide with indignant shock that Petra thought they were going to fall out of her head, narrowed to angry slits. Her cheeks flushed bright-red and she snatched the keys out of Christie’s hand.

  “Good girl,” Petra whispered to no one in particular.

  “I don’t think so,” Bree snarled, teeth bared. “You. Are. Excused.”

  The rest of the crowd went utterly still, but Petra could see Ben, Alex and Cooper exchanging glances as though they were silently plotting who was going to grab whom if a fight broke out.

  Sure enough, Christie jammed her hands on her hips and took a step closer to Bree.

  “Excused? You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m going to leave this party by myself after I’ve been waiting all goddamn night for this drawing.”

  Bree’s nostrils flared. “You need to leave, and you need to do it right now.” She bit the words out evenly and with a deadly venom.

  “No fucking way,” Christie said and made a grab for the keys.

  Bree snatched her hand back and wrapped her small but mighty fist around the keys, her knuckles turning white as she did. The guys all moved as though they’d choreographed it in advance. Cooper positioned himself behind Bree, ready to grab her if the need arose. Ben inserted himself between Christie and Bree without touching either of them and Alex moved to open the front door.

  Rachel stood and Petra knew exactly what she was doing. If things got physical Ben wouldn’t actually touch Christie and they all knew it. Cooper picking up his girlfriend and moving her out of harm’s way was one thing, but not one of those three men would ever resort to physical aggression toward a woman, no matter what the situation. By standing between the two women, Ben was simply using his intimidating height to try to diffuse the situation. If Christie didn’t take the hint, though, Rachel had his back.

  It was an impressive moment to witness.

  Marshall Nagle stepped forward. “You should know that even if you do manage to wrestle my keys from her, and I seriously doubt you could, there is no way we’re leaving this party together.”

  “You can count me out too,” Alex said from the front door.

  “You might as well go now,” Rachel added serenely.

  Christie’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. Realizing she was outnumbered, she snarled a vicious “Fuck you” to Bree and then Alex as she stormed out of the house.

  A hand appeared above the crowd a moment after the door closed behind Christie.

  “I have number two,” a quiet voice said, and Samika Parks stepped forward.

  Petra smiled. The night just kept getting more and more interesting.

  “I’ll take those if you don’t mind,” she said to Bree, her demeanor deceptively shy.

  Samika had been to lots of Petra’s parties. From what Petra understood, she was as kinky as kinky got, and just as popular with the men as Alex was with the women.

  Samika looked Marshall over in a way that made him blush. “You wouldn’t happen to be up for a threesome since we’re now oddly numbered, would you?”

  Petra’s smile grew. God she loved Samika.

  Marshall shrug came across as indifferent, but there was a gleam in his eye. “Sure.”

  Samika turned back to Bree. “May I?”

  Petra could see the look of resignation in Bree’s eyes. The sticker was off Michel’s keys anyway, so Bree held the bowl toward Samika and let her draw a second set of keys.

  Michel’s keys.

  Well, Petra’s curiosity about Michel was going to go unanswered a little longer, but Samika couldn’t possibly have ended up with a more perfect pair o
f men.

  As the threesome moved out of the way to discuss what they would be doing next, Petra saw Bree and Rachel exchange a defeated look.

  Petra forced her feet to move her forward. “I’m number three,” she announced. Her friends knew that but the rest of the party didn’t. They’d gone through the trouble of throwing this party for her and she was going to salvage what was left of it for them.

  She gave her friends each a reassuring glance as she handed Rachel her number. Then she covered her eyes with one hand and slowly lowered the other into the bowl, one finger pointed downward.

  She picked up the first thing her finger touched—a single key fob with nothing else, no keychains or other keys, attached. She let it rest in her palm as she turned in a slow circle to show it to the room.

  She knew before she uncovered her eyes whose key she held. It was no surprise when she found Alex making his way toward her—looking oddly stone-faced and a little pale—but the room swayed as the reality of the situation hit her hard.

  He took her hand and led her out of the room without a word and she let him. He put an arm around her waist as they made their way up the stairs side by side as though he knew she needed the support, then let her lead the way to her bedroom.

  She expected her hands to be shaking as they stepped over the threshold of her room, but as he closed the door and turned the lock she realized her hands were steady, warm and dry. The prospect of spending the night with Alex wasn’t the least bit awkward or frightening the way she might have expected. In fact, she was looking forward to it after that little exchange they’d had by the fireplace, wasn’t she?

  She turned and found him watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

  Something came loose low in her belly and rolled with melted, liquid heat through her entire being. She closed the distance between them, wrapped her arms around his neck and brought his face down to hers.

  There it was, the wow she’d been hoping for when Michel kissed her earlier. Only it was more than wow, the press of Alex’s mouth on hers. The rush she experienced at the exquisite feel of his warm, firm lips and the luscious taste of him was as incredible as it was unexpected. And when he offered his tongue and she accepted, the kiss rocketed so far beyond wow.

  It was skinny dipping in the neighbor’s pool in the middle of a hot summer night and not getting caught.

  It was new ballet slippers, a puppy and a pony on Christmas.

  It was fucking cosmic is what it was.

  Chapter Four

  A dozen different scenarios had run through Alex’s mind as they’d made their way up the stairs to Petra’s bedroom. The worst of them involved an awkward silence once they got there, followed by Petra giving him a sympathetic look and saying, “Lexi, we can’t do this and you know it.”

  But she hadn’t said anything, and he had not been expecting that.

  If he’d thought watching her from afar made him nutty, it was nothing compared to finally kissing her. The hot, hungry tangling of her tongue with his shot through him like a bullet. She took him deep, opened wide and submitted with a whimper, retreated to bite his lip, then let him surge back with more force.

  He’d held her in his arms countless times, but nothing could have prepared him for the way she moved against him, going up on her toes and gripping his shoulders tight, then sliding down his body as though she was weak in the knees. She was taut and strong and somehow delicate and fragile all at the same time.

  It was going to send him straight to the madhouse.

  Her haunting eyes were wide when she drew back.

  “How has that never happened before now?” she whispered. Her lips were blood-red again and parted slightly, her breathing quick and a little ragged. Her nimble fingers were working the buttons of his shirt with an astonishing speed.

  “Jude,” he reminded her with a single word.

  She stopped and her expression went icy.

  “Do not say his name. Not tonight. Not ever in this room.”

  Once she’d decided she was finished mourning Jude and his sudden exit, she’d eliminated all traces of him with an almost surgical precision. She’d thrown out the mattress they’d slept on, donated every piece of her bedroom furniture to the Salvation Army and completely redecorated the room. Anything he’d left behind that reminded her of him had been boxed up and donated with the furniture or given to his family.

  “It won’t happen again,” he said, hoping desperately that he hadn’t just ruined the mood.

  He hadn’t. Thank God.

  She shoved his shirt off his shoulders, pushed it to the floor and came back up on her toes for more. The way she was sliding her warm hands over his chest and raking her short nails over his skin as she fed off his mouth was making him lightheaded. And when she pinched one of his nipples hard he nearly lost his balance.

  Her lithe body felt so right in his arms, but he was afraid to touch her anywhere not covered by her dress because his hands had gone clammy. And while the rest of his body was on fire, his cock did not seem to be getting the message that he had her.

  He fucking had her.

  She felt better than he’d imagined in his wildest fantasies and his dick was apparently going to be fashionably late, which was quickly starting to piss him off. It was always the first to arrive and the last to leave the party. He prayed it wasn’t going to be a no-show for the first time in his life, but sure enough, not only was there absolutely nothing happening below the belt, he was fairly sure his balls had shrunk back up into his body as well.

  She pushed off his chest and took a few steps backward. He watched as if he was in a dream as she reached for the ties at the back of her neck. Her dress came free and the whole thing slid to the floor in a whisper of fabric. The air completely rushed out of Alex’s lungs. His pulse throbbed heavy in his throat as he took in the sight of her naked.

  Her fair skin was flawless over every inch of her sleek body from the tips of her delicate fingers to the ends of her pretty toes. Her small breasts were firm and high with dark nipples that pointed upward slightly, inviting him to come and get ‘em. Her waist nipped in just a little over her narrow hips and her pussy…well, that beauty was shaved clean as a whistle.

  “Fuck me,” he whispered reverently, closing his sweaty hands into fists.

  Her lips twitched into the slightest of naughty smirks. “Okay.”

  They both stepped forward at the same time, slamming together with a collective outward rush of breath. Their mouths clashed and they clutched at each other gracelessly. He wrapped an arm around her, digging the fingers of his free hand into the taut flesh of her ass as he hauled her close and kissed her even harder than before. She moaned into his mouth and the sound sent a wave of heat rolling down his spine—a wave that did absolutely nothing for his useless, pathetic dick.

  What the fuck?

  “Come on, Lex,” she whisper-panted, pushing back a little and going for the button on his pants. “Don’t be nervous, baby.” She got the zipper down and her hand dove inside. Her eyes went wide. “Wow you’re gonna be a big boy.”

  Humiliation started to burn hot in his face when her touch did nothing to help.

  “Pete…” He meant to tell her to stop, but she’d removed her hand and was already on her knees helping him out of his pants.

  She skimmed her hands up his legs, eyes raised to his with the promise of what she meant to do in their depths. But Alex couldn’t bear it if she took him into her mouth and he still couldn’t get hard. The fact that might be a very real possibility made his stomach turn.

  He scooped her up and tossed her onto the bed. She went flying through the air with a surprised whoop and bounced twice before she settled on the mattress, laughing. He launched himself at her and landed with his hands and knees on either side of her body. She grabbed him by the ears and brought his mouth back to hers, wrapping her legs around his waist so he stretched out on top of her.

  Her entire body was incredibly hot to
the touch, her pussy wet and ready where it was pressed to his stomach. She was his wildest dream come true but he felt as though he was stuck in a nightmare where the one thing he wanted in the whole world remained just out of reach.

  “How did this not happen before?” she asked again when he buried his face in her neck. She gasped and dug her nails into his scalp when he bit her. “How, Lex? We’ve spent so many nights in this bed. Oh. God. Damn,” she said when he shifted and sucked her nipple into his mouth, gripping her other breast hard.

  He could have told her how many nights he’d lain awake with his cock hard and aching while she slept soundly, unaware. He could have reminded her that they’d only been friends until she’d stepped into his arms and kissed him one very short moment ago. Only he didn’t want to talk. He wanted show her the things he’d spent those long, sleepless nights imagining he was going to do to her instead.

  He shifted again, this time going onto his knees on the floor beside the bed. He grasped the backs of her calves and pulled her toward the edge of the mattress. With his hands cradling her ass, he buried his face between her legs and touched his mouth to her pussy.

  Her legs fell open wide when he stroked her with his tongue, tasting her for the first time. She was slick and salty-sweet and so unbelievably hot. Heaven.

  He sought out and circled the tight little bundle of nerves of her clit with his tongue and watched her eyes roll back into her head. He lifted her hips an inch or so off the bed and flicked her back and forth, lightly at first, and then with more pressure. She reached down and covered his hands with hers, head turned to one side and eyes closed, her stomach rising and falling with every panting breath.

  It was glorious, watching her writhe and hearing her moan his name in her rich, velvety voice. The muscles of her legs began to quiver the closer he brought her to orgasm. When she gasped and pulled her thighs together suddenly, she just about boxed his ears in, making him laugh against her.

 

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